


Repent

by severinne



Series: The Wind and Its Satellite [8]
Category: Star Trek XI (AOS)
Genre: Angst, Bondage, Breathplay, Dom/sub Play, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-22
Updated: 2012-09-22
Packaged: 2017-11-14 19:39:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/518818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/severinne/pseuds/severinne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pike finds an unexpected visitor waiting for him at the end of a long, terrible day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Repent

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to Norfolkdumpling, because this is _all her fault_ for having shared [this photo shoot of brain-searing hotness](http://www.giardinophoto.com/#/LATEST/latest/10) in the first place. I knew I'd have a hard time resisting the urge to comment-fic on those images (okay, one image in particular *g*) but this took a plottier, angstier turn than I was expecting and may have lost a lot of smuttiness in the transition.

Eyes aching from a long day, Pike left the bedroom lights off and moved instead by the faint glow of San Francisco beyond the wide window. The blue light was so faint, the shadows so deep, that he nearly missed the slowly breathing shape waiting at the foot of his bed.

Pike froze, though his insides leapt and his blood raced. ‘Leo?’

The dark head twitched upward a fraction, then bowed silently again. As his eyes adjusted to the dim room, Pike saw the subtle roll of McCoy’s shoulders beneath a taut t-shirt, the enticement of bared skin between its collar and the closely cropped nape of his hair. He advanced an impulsive step, rapt with the need to taste that naked hint of his neck before the sight of the rest of his body stilled him in his tracks again.

McCoy was kneeling on the floor rather than seated on the bed, thighs spread wide enough to invite a groping hand, but it was the wrists waiting crossed at the small of his back that sent a shuddering wave of heat through his body. In the darkness, the illusion of restraint was near perfect, so easily completed if he fetched the cuffs from the bedside table or used his belt…

Though lust growled swiftly up his spinal nerve, Pike fought to repress that primal rush, if only for a moment. If only until he understood.

‘Leo?’ He repeated it quietly, but with a harder edge and a narrowed eye that read the clenching of those hands, the slow intake of breath that heaved his broad shoulders before he replied.

‘Sir.’

Hushed though it was, the word confirmed his suspicions. Still, Pike anxiously wet his lips as he laid his hand across the exposed nape of his neck, fingers curling down alongside his throat. His heart raced beneath his fingertips.

‘What’s happened, beautiful?’

The tension in McCoy’s neck solidified to stony silence. No further answer came, and Pike allowed himself a faint, frustrated sigh. For all his seeming submission, McCoy was _demanding_ this rather than asking, and the presumption of it all rattled his exhausted nerves. He seized the collar of his t-shirt, twisting the thin fabric hard enough to bite into his throat.

‘I don’t know how long you’ve been kneeling here,’ he hissed, leaning in to measure the struggle of his ragged breaths, ‘but I’ll make you kneel for hours more if you’re not going to talk.’

He held on ruthlessly, listening for the beginnings of words to materialize from McCoy’s wheezing gasps before shoving him away and stepping back, holding his own breath in tense sympathy as he watched McCoy straighten himself once more. His hands, he noted, never wavered from their place behind his back.

‘Had clinic rotation today,’ he said roughly. He spat the words at the carpet beneath his knees. ‘They put me on neurology but then a call came from the emergency ward…’

With sickening certainty, Pike understood. ‘There’s nothing you could’ve done,’ he said flatly, knowing full well what had been pulled from the wreckage of that disastrous training exercise for transport to Starfleet Medical. Distance already abandoned, he threaded his fingers through McCoy’s hair, detecting the telltale damp of a recent shower before a violent shake of his head threw off his touch.

That refusal of his tentative tenderness snapped the last thread of his patience. Pike had a fistful of hair in his grasp and was forcefully wrenching McCoy’s head back before he was prepared to confront the raw, haunted gleam in his eyes. Seeing the mirror of his own helpless anger overwhelmed him before he recognized something more hopeful there, something that might answer his own need to push through the day’s tragedy.

‘Nothing,’ he repeated softly. The fingers of his other hand were kinder, more controlled as they traced the defiant shape of his lover’s mouth. ‘You understand? There was nothing more you could’ve done today, and there’s nothing you can do now to stop me…’

A moan parted McCoy’s lips, inviting his fingers to thrust roughly inside before trailing damp along his jaw and down his neck. He kept a possessive hand tangled in McCoy’s hair as he traced the faint welt crossing his throat and watched his dark eyelashes shiver closed in response.

‘Is this what you need?’ he asked quietly. Pike slid his hand beneath the thin cloth of his t-shirt. ‘Should I mark you,’ he scratched bluntly over McCoy’s chest, ‘tie you down and use you hard…’

‘Yes…’ His eyes flicked open, dark with want. ‘Yes, all of it… please, Chris…’

He swept down and caught those pleading lips in a kiss, tugging sharply again at McCoy’s hair as a vague noise of protest met his tongue. With a savage drag of his teeth, Pike held fast and chased down every soft groan at the back of McCoy’s throat until he lapsed into pliant sighs beneath the onslaught of his kiss.

‘Better,’ he murmured as he straightened upright. ‘Now, you keep waiting as pretty as I found you until I’m ready.’

McCoy obeyed, though not without an annoyed twitch of his eyebrow before he bowed his head once more. That as much as his submission kept Pike’s arousal simmering hot as he slowly circled the bed. The cuffs would be a start, though it would take far more to push his Leo beyond his stubborn guilt.

He only hoped that reclaiming some semblance of control in the possession and comfort of his lover’s body would ease his own regrets of today. Futile anger blurred the edges of his awareness as he moved, muted all senses until McCoy’s startled gasp brought his world back into focus.

‘Too tight?’ But McCoy shook his head.

‘Do your worst,’ he snapped, voice breaking on a moan as Pike bit down hard on the tempting curve of his nape to repress his own grateful sigh as he fastened the cuffs to a tighter, more perfect fit for them both.


End file.
